


Clear Your Mind

by bibliomaniac



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Yoga, Fluff and Angst, Genji is a dork, M/M, Multi, They're all dorks, Zenyatta is also a dork, dorks who do yoga, i can't fricking believe that's a tag but ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8474749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliomaniac/pseuds/bibliomaniac
Summary: Hanzo wants his wayward younger brother to learn to clear his mind, so he sends him to a yoga class. There, Genji meets Zenyatta, and there, Genji falls in love.(Hanzo, for the record, was not intending for that to happen.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> lol ok so i've never played overwatch?? i'm relatively familiar with the lore and characters and i love them, but i have never played the actual game bc me and controllers hate each other. also, i know crap-all about yoga, so if i get things wrong/ooc/whatever else that is probably why. apologies in advance
> 
> this entire monstrous thing was birthed from a conversation about overwatch sims with my palfriendo wirt (autisticnonbinarymedic on ao3!), so...lol thanks???? maybe?

When Hanzo had said he needed to learn to clear his mind, he hadn’t expected him to actually, like…do something about it. Hanzo says lots of things. And, sure, sometimes he acts too, but how do you even act on a vague proposition like ‘clearing your mind’? 

You enroll your little brother in a yoga class, apparently.

Genji scowls at the ground. He doesn’t want to do yoga. He’s plenty athletic already, thanks, and he’s also not a soccer mom. He’s sick and tired of Hanzo’s high-handed shenanigans—grooming him to become part of the family business, his butt—and he’s definitely going to put his foot down when he gets home today—

Oh.

_Oh._

Sitting at the front of the classroom with a serene expression on his face is the most beautiful man Genji’s ever seen. His skin is a deep, dark brown, and his cheekbones look like they could cut glass, and he has the most adorable freckles. 

And then he opens his eyes and smiles—just a little bit, just a slight quirk of the lips—and Genji falls sort of in love.

“Good morning,” the man says (and that’s another thing, while Genji’s on the subject, who even does yoga in the morning? Jeez, Hanzo). “You must be the new student. Shimada…Genji, am I correct?”

“I’m Genji,” Genji says dreamily, then wishes he could kick himself. He supposes that might be one of the few benefits of doing yoga, along with this gorgeous guy right here, holy crap.

The man’s lips purse slightly, like he’s trying to keep himself from smiling wider. “Excellent. I am Tekhartha Zenyatta, the instructor for this class. You may call me Zenyatta.”

Normally this is the part where Genji would say something like, “Can I call you the man of my dreams?” and then smile the smile that earned him his reputation as a playboy in the first place, but honestly he’s still a bit out of it from being woken up early and this guy really is obscenely attractive, and he’s going to blame those things on what he does next instead.

“You’re hot,” he blurts out, and then, “Oh no.”

The guy—no, Zenyatta—purses his lips again in a valiant effort to keep himself from grinning, but to no avail. The wide smile blossoms on his face. It makes him look younger, and somehow even cuter in a way Genji hadn’t even thought was possible.

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry,” Genji says miserably, and contemplates once more the merits of doing yoga for the sole purpose of learning to kick himself in the face. “My brother says I need to learn to think before I speak.”

“A valuable skill,” Zenyatta says, nodding, when his eyes turn slightly mischievous. “But one that I’ll admit I am glad you do not possess at this moment.”

“Huh?” Genji has pretty good ears, but they must have stopped working, because he could have sworn that almost sounded like—

“Zenyatta,” a stern voice rings out from the back of the room. “Are you flirting with the customers again?” The newcomer looks similar to Zenyatta, but older and more serious.

“No, brother,” Zenyatta says, face all mock innocence. “I was just welcoming him.”

The other guy raises a single eyebrow and dryly says, “By flirting with him.” It’s not really a question.

“Only a little bit.” 

“Hmm.” Zenyatta’s brother is doing the same pursed-lip thing. “I see. Well, do try to contain yourself, Zenyatta.”

“I will do my best.”

“I’m sure.”

“Can I help you with anything, then?” The shift from playful to respectful is sudden, but it fits somehow.

“No. I just wanted to make sure that you were ready for the upcoming class. I can still take over—”

“Of course not,” Zenyatta rushes to assure him, raising a hand, voice concerned. Genji, who is watching this whole exchange with a mixture of awe (holy crap, cute guy flirting with him) and envy (cute guy’s brother doesn’t mind cute guy flirting with him; if only Hanzo were like that), wishes he could smooth out the worry lines that appear on Zenyatta’s face. With his tongue, preferably. (Is that sexy? He doesn’t even care right now.)

The brother nods. “If you’re certain.”

“I am.”

“Mm. Well, then. Have fun.” He leaves as silently as he came.

“Your brother seems cool,” Genji offers. 

“Mondatta?” Zenyatta’s face relaxes. “He is, yes. I am lucky to have him.”

“He’s lucky to have you too.” Frick, could he sound more besotted? Genji considers. Probably. Best not to risk it.

Zenyatta’s laugh is rich and warm. “Really? I’m not sure he’d say the same.”

“No?”

“I come in here every once in a while to help out with classes and I always seem to leave behind a bit of a mess.” He pauses, then continues delicately, “Apparently, my demeanor leads some people to believe that I am interested in pursuing something further than a professional relationship with them, and they do not always accept the reality gracefully.”

“Oh.” Genji deflates. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Zenyatta peers at Genji, then appears to realize what he means. “Oh! No, no. You, I am interested in.”

Then he winks.

Honest to God.

Crap, he’s so gone. 

After that, a stream of ladies come in, chattering excitedly to one another, eyeing Genji with confusion and something else he’d really prefer not to think about, but he doesn’t let it bother him. He’s still a little bit high off of that wink. 

And anyway, he doesn’t really have the time to think about his apparent soccer mom appeal, because holy _crap_ he is bad at yoga. They start with meditation, which is already bad enough. Genji feels like he’s going to explode. And then they do the actual yoga part, and he has to bend weirdly and his body does _not_ like that, and on top of everything else every time he messes up a move Zenyatta purses his lips again and then all he can think about is how much he wants to kiss those pursed lips and then he sort of falls on his face.

So. Yeah.

He leaves with a burning face (partly from the impact, partly from the pitying stares of his new classmates) and some choice words for Hanzo when he sees him next. But. He also leaves with the smiling gaze of Zenyatta and a whispered, “I will see you next time, Genji,” and that’s how one Shimada Genji becomes a dedicated yoga classgoer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains familial arguing as well as alcohol if u wanna skip over that

“How was it?” Hanzo asks smugly when Genji drags himself back home.

Genji begins to scowl, but then his mind returns to Zenyatta. Without thinking too much about it, he responds, “Hot.”

He only realizes his mistake when Hanzo, obviously confused, says, “I did not sign you up for hot yoga. It conflicted with your schedule. Was the air conditioning broken? That’s not very professional—”

“Nope! No. That wasn’t, uh, what I meant. They were very professional,” Genji rushes to assure him. Hanzo has been known to write scathing Yelp reviews when peeved. Or, really, even when he’s in a good mood. His compliments just tend to sort of sound like he’s pissed off at you, like, all the time. Or maybe that’s just with Genji.

“Oh?”

“Yep. Incredibly professional. Least broken air conditioning I’ve ever seen, probably. Blaring at full speed. Put away your phone, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.” Hanzo puts away his phone, then his eyes narrow. “What did you mean, then?”

Frick. “Uh…”

“Surely,” Hanzo says smoothly, taking a step closer with a dangerous look on his face, “You’re not referring to the patrons. Because that would be disrespectful.”

Genji brightens immediately. “I’m not, actually! Hah!”

Hanzo’s eyes narrow further. “Staff?”

Double frick. “Well, uh…”

“You know you can’t lie to me.”

“Actually I am suddenly feeling very tired—”

“Please, that stopped working when you were three—”

“—of your CRAP, Hanzo, so I think Zenyatta is cute, whatever, why do you care—”

“Oh, so, first name basis, already, really? I swear—”

“—it’s not like that, jeez! And it’s none of your business anyway—”

“—Oh, please, you know Father said—”

“— _You_ know I care crap-all about what Father says! It’s not his business either if I think a guy is cute—”

“—it is our business if it affects the family! I sent you to this class to clear your mind, not for a quick f—”

“—I said it’s not like that! You never listen, Hanzo!”

“Maybe I would listen if you ever said anything worth listening to!”

Genji stops in the middle of his angry pacing, clenching his fists. He knows he shouldn’t let Hanzo get to him. He knows that. And he definitely already knows people don’t care about what he has to say. He knows people are never going to care about him, not really. But it still hurts when Hanzo says it out loud. So he hurts back.

“Yeah, well, maybe I might listen to you if you ever acted like my brother instead of some kind of—robot,” Genji hisses, wiping away the tears that threaten to spill over. “I guess neither of us are going to get what we want.”

These fights always end in the same way. Genji storms off to his room, and then sneaks out and act on one of his many bad ideas. Hanzo stays at home, the perfect older brother who probably doesn’t care at all how much he just hurt Genji’s feelings. It’s like the script to the world’s worst soap opera, and they’ve both played it out hundreds of times.

Unlike usual, though, he doesn’t feel like meeting up with his friends or going out and looking for someone to go home with. Instead, he goes to his favorite bar. It’s this utterly tacky Western place that plays awful country 24/7 and is tended by a barkeeper who dresses up like a cowboy. Tacky or no, though, the guy gives pretty good advice, and there’s alcohol, so. 

“Hey, Jesse,” Genji announces himself as he enters, sitting heavily on one of the barstools. “My usual, please.”

“If it’s not my whiniest customer,” the bartender says. It’s probably not really meant unkindly, but it doesn’t help Genji’s bad mood.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure that honor goes to those two,” he responds listlessly, jerking his thumb over at the two old regulars, who spend their time bickering and insulting the quality of the establishment that they frequent daily. 

They both flip him the bird at the same time, and he returns the favor. 

Jesse rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you all suck.”

Normally Genji might make a lewd joke or something at that, but he’s not really feeling up to it tonight. He sighs dramatically and buries his face into the countertop.

“Your brother again?” Jesse asks sympathetically.

“Yeah.” His voice comes out muffled. “I hate him.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Genji turns his head to look at Jesse, then sighs again. “Yeah, guess not. I wish I did, though. It’d make it easier.”

Jesse pushes Genji’s usual drink towards him. “Maybe. They say the best things don’t come easy, though.”

Genji snorts. “Aren’t you Hallmark today.”

Jesse shrugs, unaffected as always by Genji’s mood. “I’m also right.” 

“Maybe,” Genji mumbles, echoing Jesse’s earlier sentiment and taking a deep gulp of his drink. “How about you try being less right and more supportive, hey?”

“Gee, I’m sorry. There, there.” He smacks him roughly on the shoulder, making Genji choke on his drink and glare up at Jesse. Jesse just smiles unrepentantly.

“Why do I even come here?” Genji asks rhetorically, grabbing for a nearby napkin to clean himself up.

“Well, hey, now you sound just like the old-timers. You’re getting there, bucko!”

There’s another round of middle fingers exchanged between the four men, and Jesse laughs, loud and boisterous. “Joking. Lemme get you another drink, kiddo. Looks like you need it.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jesse reaches across the counter to ruffle Genji’s hair. “Yanno, I’d like to meet this brother of yours one day. Give him what-for, yeah?”

Genji chuckles. “I’d like to see that.”

“What, you like to watch?” Jesse grins as Genji’s expression turns horrified.

“Don’t even joke about that, jeez!” Genji shudders. “You and my brother? No way.”

Jesse’s grin widens, and he coos, “Aw, you sayin’ you don’t want me as a big brother?”

“How dare you even make me think about that.” Genji wrinkles his face. “I take it back. The two of you should never, ever meet.”

“Don’t worry. Way you describe him, I doubt he’d ever come here. Now, go on. Your drink is getting warm.”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop fussing.”

Jesse smiles affectionately down at the green-haired boy. He’d never admit it, but he’s almost grateful to the kid’s brother. Without him, he wouldn’t have met Genji. That doesn’t mean he’ll ever forgive him, though. He sees the damage that the guy does to his friend regularly, and he doesn’t like it one bit. He’s sworn to give him a good punch in the face if he ever does see him, actually.

But he won’t. So it’ll have to remain as a nice fantasy. He shakes his head, and returns to keeping an eye on Jack and Gabriel in the corner. They tend to start throwing things at each other around this time of night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zenyatta will show up next chapter promise! just settin up the story


	3. Chapter 3

As it happens, Hanzo is not feeling like a perfect older brother right now, nor is he unaffected by how much he hurt Genji’s feelings.

He never means to get into these fights with Genji, not really. He doesn’t mean to say the things he does, not exactly. But his brother just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t deal with their father, not like Hanzo does, because Hanzo never wanted him to have to, never wanted him to lose everything that made him young and bright.

He never wanted Genji to become like him. 

But it’s hard keeping their father from his wayward youngest, and he only has so much goodwill from his father in trying to reform Genji left before his father does it himself. He figured he could do it gently, kindly, be the good big brother that he knows he’s never been to Genji. But he gets so frustrated, and Genji gets mad, and then they both lash out where they know it will hurt most, and Genji leaves and Hanzo pretends like he doesn’t know where he’s going and stays home and wishes he were anywhere else. 

But he’s not. He’s here, and he is the chosen heir, and if he has to hurt Genji to keep him from being hurt worse, he’ll make that decision a thousand times over. 

He only has three more months before his father has sworn to straighten up Genji by whatever means necessary. That means three months for him to fix his and Genji’s fractured relationship, and three months to get Genji to understand that he needs to accept responsibility and step up as the youngest son of the Shimada family. Three months for Genji to learn to clear his mind and avoid distractions. 

He looses a few more arrows into the center of the target—his chosen method of calming down, not that he’d ever admit that was necessary in the first place— then nods decisively. Genji won’t be participating in the yoga class any longer, obviously, not when there’s a distraction right there at hand. He’ll come up with another solution. He’ll protect his brother, and everything will be fine. Hanzo will make it fine. He has to.

\------------------------

Genji is going back to the yoga class, obviously. Sure, he hates it and he is bad at it and it’s irritating, but on the other hand, Zenyatta. Easy decision. Hanzo should be pleased that he’s cooperating, anyway.

He evades his guard to make his way to the class early, but gets sort of distracted by the new gacha machines at the arcade. (He can’t be blamed for that. They have cute egg keychains and Genji has a lot of spare change. It was pretty much inevitable.) He ends up getting there about ten minutes late, but when he gets there, the building is dark and appears to be vacant. Genji realizes, altogether too late, that he never really asked about the class schedule. Of course. His life sucks.

He kicks at the floor moodily, then starts to turn around to leave. Just as he reaches the door, distantly, he hears, “Zenyatta, did you neglect to lock the front door again?”

“Sorry! I was about to leave!” yells back another voice, presumably Zenyatta. “I have a patient—”

“Fine, just deal with—”

“Yes, of course—”

Zenyatta comes running around the corner and stops in his tracks. “Genji? What are you doing here?”

Genji is pretty sure he’s blushing again. This is awkward. “Oh, um…I sort of thought there was class.”

“Ah, no, I’m afraid not. This class meets twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays.” Zenyatta pauses. “But more than that, didn’t you drop?”

“What?”

“Your brother said you were no longer interested in coming to the class. I assumed I wouldn’t see you again.”

Genji’s eyes widen, then he scowls. “Ugh, he—really?!” He takes a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. Looks like there’ll be another fight tonight. Great. “No, I want to keep coming. My brother and I don’t always…see eye to eye. I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Oh, really?” Zenyatta’s face lights up, and Genji nearly forgets his anger, because he’s too busy melting. “Good! I mean, not about your brother, but…I was concerned I had taken things too far last time.”

“Huh? No, no!” Genji waves his hands and babbles, “Not far enough, if you ask me.” He takes the time to think over what he just said and groans. “Crap, uh…forget I just said that, I’m…”

Zenyatta laughs. “I’m not sure how much farther I could have taken it in a classroom setting, but I’ll admit I do regret not asking for lunch.”

Genji is dumbfounded once more. “Wha…huh?”

“I was hoping you might, actually, but I suppose I might not have made that clear enough?” Zenyatta taps his chin thoughtfully. “Oh well. We’ve time.”

Genji is still not completely certain he’s not dreaming, but he’s not going to let this opportunity pass by, either. He steels himself and asks, “Like…noon today time?”

Zenyatta’s mouth quirks at the corner. “Oh?”

Genji crosses his fingers in his pocket and amends, “I mean…only if you want to.”

Zenyatta stares at him curiously, still with that same half-smile, then says, “I really must not have made myself clear. I would love to have lunch with you today, Genji.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

Genji beams. “Great!”

They stand smiling at each other for a few awkward moments after that, then Zenyatta pulls his phone out of his pocket and blanches. “Oh dear. I really do have to be going, though. I have—”

“A patient, right,” Genji remembers. “Like a yoga patient?”

“No. I mentioned I only help out here sometimes, correct? I’m actually a physical therapist.”

“Oh, cool!”

“So you’ll forgive me, but…” Zenyatta makes an apologetic face.

“Of course, yeah. Can I…get your phone number, maybe? For lunch?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” They exchange numbers hurriedly, then wave goodbye, Genji smiling ridiculously until Zenyatta vanishes from sight.

He takes back everything negative he’s ever said about life. Life is wonderful, and he has a date to prepare for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing to distract myself from the world falling apart lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> food mention

Genji didn’t exactly have anything else planned for the day, so he’s sort of lost on what to do now. Or, well, let’s be accurate. There were probably a number of things planned _for_ him, but if he goes back now, they’ll tighten the security and he won’t be allowed to leave for lunch. Obviously that’s not an option. So.

He wanders around the city for a while before remembering that there’s a farmer’s market on Tuesdays. Mostly they’ve got produce and flowers, neither of which particularly interest Genji, but it’s a fine way to kill an hour. 

He heads over there and makes his way through all of the samples. They’ve got some kettle corn as well, which he’s pleased about (though the vendor asks him pointedly whether he’s got someone to share the large bag with, which he is less pleased about. What, you think he can’t finish this whole thing by himself? He downs half of it in a minute tops while making intense eye contact with the seller, who looks like they can’t decide whether they’re impressed or disgusted. Genji chooses to believe it’s the former.) On a whim, he also decides to buy a pot of some pretty yellow flowers for the date later on.

He pulls up the number given to him, biting his lip, and considers whether enough time has elapsed for him to be able to text Zenyatta. Probably, right? He doesn’t even know why he’s so nervous about this. He’s been on bunches of dates. (Well, okay, maybe less if you don’t count club hookups as dates, but still.) This should be a piece of cake. He musters up his best texting etiquette and types,

_Shimada Genji: Hello, this is Shimada Genji. I hope I am not interrupting your appointment. I just wanted to check if you had any preferences as to where we went to lunch._

It takes about ten minutes for Zenyatta to respond, during which he goes through the rest of the kettle corn morosely. He’s flicking the unpopped kernels at pigeons when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He immediately brightens, but deflates slightly when he sees the message.

_ZEN ;) (yoga): Lol you are so formal!_

_Shimada Genji: Sorry is that bad?_

_ZEN ;) (yoga): Of course not, I just didn’t expect it. If that’s how you normally type that’s fine, but I assure you I don’t mind at all if you drop a few capitals here or there :)_

_Shimada Genji: oh thank god_

_Shimada Genji: so, lunch? we still on?_

_ZEN ;) (yoga): Of course! I actually did have an idea, if that’s all right. There’s this lovely vegan restaurant nearby my place of work._

Vegan? Huh. Oh well, he can dig it.

_Shimada Genji : sounds good 2 me_

_Shimada Genji: what’s it called? ill just google it_

_ZEN ;) (yoga): It’s called The Hungry Hog. You’ll…understand when we get there, probably, lol. :)_

_Shimada Genji: awesome well ill let u get back to physical therapist-ing_

_ZEN ;) (yoga): Lol thank you so considerate ;)_

_Shimada Genji: i am vry considerate_

Genji takes a moment to contemplate whether that was an intentional winky face or not, then shrugs and decides to go for it.

_Shimada Genji: …;)_

He still has about an hour and a half to go until lunch, so he makes his way to his wasting-time mainstay: the arcade. They have this nice first-person shooter there with cool characters. He’s a big fan of the robot guy with the floating circles. The flowers go on top of the console, his slightly kettle corn-sticky fingers go on the controls, and he’s off.

Before he knows it, it’s time for him to get going, so he straightens up his hair in a window and follows his phone’s directions to the restaurant Zenyatta mentioned. He’s there about five minutes late—got caught up in the game, sue him—but luckily Zenyatta is waiting for him patiently outside.

“Genji! I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Genji says, more than a little bit in awe at the way Zenyatta’s cheeks dimple when he grins.

“Shall we?”

They enter the restaurant together. It’s decorated with, well…pigs. Everywhere. Very cute pigs, but it’s sort of weird for a vegan restaurant, isn’t it?

Zenyatta notes Genji’s confusion and leans over and whispers in Genji’s ear, “The owner’s nickname is Roadhog, and he has a friend who put up the decorations as a joke. He never bothered taking them down, apparently.”

Genji is busy trying not to swoon from Zenyatta’s warm breath tickling against his ear, so he just nods shakily and sits down at the nearest booth. “Gotcha.”

It quickly becomes difficult to ignore the sound of an incessantly ringing bell. And the yelling. “Roadhog! Roadhog, mate! Roadie, Roadsters, Rolls Royce—”

An incredibly large man wearing a surgical mask comes out from a back door, which swings open to reveal an immaculate kitchen. “What, Jamie?” he rumbles. “M’cookin’.”

“I missed you,” a much smaller man sitting at the bar chirps, taking his hand off the bell. “Also, Zen’s here.”

“Coulda opened with that.” The man turns his piercing gaze to Zenyatta and Genji. “Hey.”

“Hello, Mako,” Zenyatta says pleasantly. “I like your shirt today.”

The man—Mako, Roadhog, whatever—looks down at his shirt. It’s a floral crop top, revealing his pig-tattooed belly. “Thanks. Jamie got it for me.”

The smaller guy, Jamie, is wearing a matching crop top. He laughs nervously. “Yeah, uh, it was a joke, right, Roadie?”

“Mm.”

Genji looks at Jamie and his very clear blush. He whispers to Zenyatta, “Uh, I sorta get the impression that he—”

“Shh.” Zenyatta taps a finger to his lips, eyes dancing. “That’s for them to figure out.”

“Menu?” Genji looks up in shock. The restaurant owner has managed to get over to their booth without making a sound.

“Sure, thank you, Mako.” Zenyatta takes one for himself and one for Genji, passing it over. “I recommend the fresh spring rolls. They’re quite good.”

They both order, then settle in.

“Do you come here often, then?” Genji pauses. “I swear that was intended to sound much less cliché.”

Zenyatta giggles, putting an elegant hand over his mouth. “I do, yes. There’s not much vegan fare within walking distance.”

“Cool. I mean, not cool, but it’s…good there’s someplace, yeah?”

“Quite.” Zenyatta’s still smiling, but his head is tilted and his gaze is somewhat calculating. “You don’t have to be so nervous around me, Genji, you know. I’m not going to run away.”

Genji winces. “Sorry. I just don’t…do this so often. Not, uh…not like this.”

“There is no need to apologize. I myself confess to feeling slightly nervous and out of my element.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I’m just very good at hiding it.”

“You don’t have to, though,” Genji says confusedly. “Hide it, I mean. I’d like to get to know you as you really are, you know?”

Zenyatta’s face softens, and he smiles again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That means a lot, Genji. Thank you.”

“I don’t really know I did anything worth thanking, but, uh. You’re welcome?” Genji smiles back awkwardly, then remembers. “Oh! I got you something. Just, uh…it was around.”

“Oh!” Zenyatta exclaims delightedly as Genji sheepishly presents the flowers. “They’re lovely, thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” 

Zenyatta looks over the flowers, stroking them contemplatively, then does his pursed-lip thing again. 

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Genji scowls. “Don’t do that. My brother does that. What’s funny?”

“Oh, just…are you familiar with the language of flowers?”

“Not really,” Genji says suspiciously. “Do those say something?”

“Everything has something to say if you listen hard enough,” Zenyatta says serenely, then breaks out into a grin. “For example, these yellow carnations say, ‘You are a disappointment.’”

Genji blanches. “Crap. I am so sorry, I swear—”

“Do not worry about it. They also say that you cared enough to think of me even when we were apart.” Zenyatta strokes over them one last time before setting them to the side. “And they say that you are kind.”

Genji ducks his head, smiling at his lap. 

“So, then, with all of that aside, what would you like to talk about? Yoga?”

Genji makes a face. “Please no.”

Then they’re both laughing, and it’s still sort of awkward, but it’s nice too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone Is Incredibly Gay: The Fic
> 
> vegan restaurant owner roadhog is also part of my friend wirt/autisticnonbinarymedic's sims au. junkrat won the lottery and now splits his time between experimenting with explosives and being at the hungry hog wondering whether he is irritating his bff roadhog except they have 'secret' aka super obvious crushes on each other


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains familial arguing and very slight violence. also food mention

“—I’ve never really understood why zombies are such a threat anyway,” Genji says through a mouthful of spring roll. “What can they do? Their muscles are degenerating. I’m pretty sure their only power lies in sheer mass.”

“True,” Zenyatta says, nodding contemplatively.

Genji chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry. I think about this a lot.”

Zenyatta shrugs. “I never really thought about it before, to be honest, but you make good points.”

“Thank you.” Genji pauses. “How did we even start talking about zombies?”

“I can’t remember, but it was fun!” Zenyatta grins. “Mondatta would never talk about anything like this. He says discussion of hypotheticals is less productive than preparing for what will actually occur.”

Genji snorts. “Hanzo would just say I’m wasting my time with frivolity, as always.”

“Hanzo? Is that your brother?”

“Yeah. Did he forget to tell you his name over the phone?”

“He identified himself only as ‘the brother of Genji Shimada’.” 

Genji rolls his eyes, taking a long sip of his drink. “Sounds like him. I suppose he considers basic etiquette a frivolity as well.”

He doesn’t even notice he’s scowling until Zenyatta says compassionately, “You did mention you don’t always agree with him.”

“More like never.” Genji sighs, resting his hand on his chin. “To him, everything I do is frivolous. I can’t do anything well enough to satisfy him. I used to try really hard when I was a kid, you know? I spent all my time trying to be perfect so that he would tell me he was proud of me, just once. But it never happened, so I gave up.” He hesitates, peeking at Zenyatta’s understanding face before continuing quietly, “I’m honestly not sure anymore whether he’s just hard to please or whether I really am not good enough.”

There’s a silence, before Genji sighs and looks away. “Never mind, ignore me.”

“Genji.” He feels a hand softly laid upon his. “I would never ignore you. You are worth every moment of my attention.”

Genji frowns and peers at Zenyatta. He looks sincere. Genji’s frown turns to a soft smile. “Well, then, thanks. Again.”

Zenyatta dips his head in acknowledgement, then says thoughtfully, “Personally, I believe there are far more cases in which expectations need to be adjusted than there are people who cannot meet them. We may not know each other very well yet, Genji, but I assure you I fully believe you are capable of anything you put your mind to, regardless of whether your brother acknowledges your efforts.”

Genji laughs softly. “Wow. You’re pretty convincing. If you keep saying that, I might even believe you.”

“Then I guess we’re going to have to continue seeing each other so I can continue to remind you of your worth.”

Genji processes this, then breaks out into a grin. “That was smooth.”

“Thank you. I thought so as well,” Zenyatta says demurely, before giving a grin of his own. It fades slightly as he bites his lip, then says lightly, “But really, if you’re open to it, I’d love to see you again. Outside of class, I mean.”

“Are you kidding me?” Genji asks incredulously. “I haven’t had so much fun in a long time. You’re great.”

“I think you’re pretty great, also.”

They smile happily at each other. Genji is seriously contemplating the logistics of saying to heck with first date etiquette and leaning across the table for a kiss when a rumbling voice says, “Check?”

Genji jumps. Mako has appeared silently next to the table again. “Holy crap, dude! You’re going to give someone a heart attack someday!”

Mako pauses, then says contemplatively, “…Someday…?”

Genji stares at him in horror.

“We’d love the check, thank you, Mako,” Zenyatta interjects.

Mako nods and heads back to the register, throwing over his shoulder, “I was joking, by th’way.” 

Genji isn’t so sure.

They get the check and head outside. They stand together for a bit, exchanging pleasantries, before Zenyatta checks his phone again.

“Oh, no. I really would like to stay longer, but I’m afraid I’ve a patient coming up soon.”

“No, I totally get it. You should go.”

Zenyatta nods and starts to turn with a wave, but in a moment of surprising bravado, turns back around and says with a deceptively calm voice, “And you should kiss me.”

Genji takes a step back in shock. “Wh—”

Zenyatta sighs with mock irritation and mumbles, “I have to do everything around here,” then steps forward, leans in and presses his lips against Genji’s. Just once, just quickly.

Muffled from behind the glass, the two men hear Jamie’s crow, “Yeah, get it, Zen!”

Genji’s lips curve into a delighted, dazed smile as Zenyatta steps back, blushing. “I…yes.”

“I’ll see you again. Soon.” Genji blurts.

Zenyatta looks up shyly and his eyes sparkle as he says, “Yes, you will. Goodbye, Genji. Have a wonderful day.”

Genji is pretty sure he will, after that. He doesn’t even care that both Mako and Jamie are witness to his subsequent happy dance. 

Okay, maybe he cares a little when he hears Jamie’s high-pitched cackle, but only a little.

Nothing can ruin this day.

\------------------------

He should really stop tempting fate.

“Genji!” Hanzo’s voice rings out, stern and irritated. “I hear you slipped your guard again today.”

Genji groans. “Yes, I did, but—”

“But nothing! You know it’s not safe to be without them. Not for you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Genji says, frowning. 

“Really?” Hanzo looks him up and down derisively. “You’re out of shape, you’ve been ditching your self-defense classes. You really expect me to believe that against multiple enemies—”

Genji throws his arms up in the air, frustrated. “What enemies?! The Shimada family is an aging relic, at best, Hanzo. We all know that. Our supposed ‘enemies’ know that. Nobody’s made an attempt against us in years, and—”

“You do not know anything about our family, so watch your tongue, Genji,” Hanzo hisses, eyes flashing. “You know nothing of the danger we face.”

“Because you never let me!” Genji’s hands are fisted now, the argument familiar but still grating. “I’ve told you so many times that I can take it, but no, you just tell me that I can’t handle the truth because I’m so young and naïve and untalented and, and—whatever the crap else you have to throw at me, but you know what I think, Hanzo? I think you’re just scared!”

Hanzo is in front of him in a flash, sweeping out his feet from under him. Genji falls painfully back onto his hands. Hanzo towers over him, dark and strange and angry.

“Scared, Genji? You are the one who should be scared. Because you _are_ young, and you _are_ naïve, and you are incredibly ignorant. But above all, you are a Shimada, and you should respect the responsibility that this entails.”

“I never asked to be!” Genji bursts out, getting back up on his feet, wincing as he goes. He must have twisted his ankle or something when he went down. “I never asked to be a Shimada, Hanzo. I never wanted any of this! All I wanted was for you—to—”

“To what, Genji?” Hanzo sneers. “To coddle you, to ignore your shortcomings—”

“To love me, Hanzo!” Genji’s mouth twists, and to his horror, the tears start to come again, in earnest. He repeats, small, “All I wanted was for you to love me.”

Hanzo’s eyes go wide. “Genji—”

“No. I’m so tired of it.”

“Genji, no, I—”

“All of it. I’m so tired.” He shakes his head. Wonderful day, his butt. “Goodbye.”

“Genji, stop. We need to—”

“No. You need to leave me alone.” Genji picks his coat up, puts it on, ignoring the stinging in his hands and ankle. “I just need a couple of hours, Hanzo. You owe me that at least.”

And then he’s gone.

Hanzo can’t help but feel that he just broke something beyond repair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff fluff fluSUDDEN ANGST! SUDDEN ANGST! 
> 
> i was gonna do this part later in the fic but i got bored shruggu


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blood, violence mention

Genji doesn’t want to go to McCree’s bar. He doesn’t want to go out with friends. If he’s being honest with himself, the only thing he really wants to do is see Zenyatta again. They’ve only known each other a few days, but he can’t forget the warm feeling he had on their date today, or Zenyatta’s understanding eyes, or the feeling of his lips, and okay, that’s maybe not a good route to head down in public.

But he can’t see Zenyatta, so instead he just wanders around, breathing in the cold nighttime air. He wanders until there aren’t people around anymore, and then he finds a bench, because his ankle has gone all red and puffy and it hurts. He investigates it with the clinical dullness of someone who’s seen far worse injuries in his time. Probably just strained. 

He leans back against the bench and looks up into the sky. The stars aren’t visible from the city, and for a brief sentimental moment, he can sympathize. Nobody ever sees him, not really, because his last name shines so much brighter. Not his friends, who are nice to him probably largely because he pays for them a lot. Not his brother, to be certain.

But Zenyatta. He closes his eyes, remembering. Zenyatta sees him. He doesn’t even think he knows about the Shimada family. Would he still smile at him the same if he knew? Would he still see him?

Genji’s thoughts pause as he senses someone approaching. He keeps his eyes closed, attuning his ears to the sounds around him. One set of footsteps, then two, then more. Five total. He wouldn’t be suspicious normally, except for this street doesn’t get a lot of foot traffic, and they’re being completely silent other than their light steps.

He opens his eyes. He was right. Five men, all in black, all approaching him.

“So the rumors about the famous Shimada senses are right, huh? Ears like a dog’s, I heard,” one of them says conversationally.

Genji’s eyes flick to their tattoos. They’re from a rival gang, The Virus. “Hello,” he responds, weighing his escape options. “Nice evening, isn’t it?”

“A little chilly,” responds the first guy. Must be the leader, what with the smart quips and all. The others are staying silent. 

“You’re right. You know, I actually forgot my coat, so if you don’t mind me going to get it—”

“You won’t need a coat where you’re going,” one of the other men hisses. Genji internally rolls his eyes. What a cliché. 

The subsequent fight is short. Genji’s pretty handy at defending himself—he should be, after years of training—but his wrists and ankle are both still sore from his Hanzo-assisted fall earlier, which makes both punching and kicking a bit difficult. It’d have turned out different if he had his katana, maybe, but he doesn’t and, honestly, he sort of knew the outcome from the moment he heard those men coming. 

His last thought before they knock him out is that Hanzo was probably right about the whole guard thing, which sucks.

\----------------------

It isn’t all that uncommon for Hanzo to go without seeing Genji for a day, especially after a big fight, but two days? He’s starting to get worried.

He gets even more worried when he receives a hesitant call from the yoga instructor, whatever his name is, saying that Genji didn’t show up at the class Thursday morning and he hasn’t been answering his phone, and is he all right? Hanzo has to work very hard to keep his voice level when he responds, “I don’t know.”

Genji’s useless friends haven’t seen him for weeks. Genji’s guards confirm he never came home after Tuesday night. There’s only one option left he can think of.

Hanzo enters the bar with distaste. It’s…country-themed? For some reason? He can’t imagine why on earth Genji would spend time here, but then again, he’s never understood Genji very well. He remembers Genji’s face when he said ‘all I wanted was for you to love me’ and his heart crumples. He has to find Genji. If only so that he can tell him that he does, that he does love him and he’s so sorry that he hasn’t been able to show that—

“It’s a bit early for a drink, innit?” comes a Texan-accented voice from the bar. “I mean, hey, no judgement if you’re payin’.”

“I’m not here for a drink,” Hanzo says levelly. “I’m looking for someone.”

The man, who is…actually rather attractive despite the cowboy hat and weird poncho thing, not that that matters, chuckles. “Lost somebody, huh? I dunno if I can help you any, but give me a description and I’ll see what I can do.”

“He’s Japanese, and his hair is dyed green,” Hanzo recites dutifully. “His name is—”

“Genji?” The man is starting to look concerned. “Who’s askin’?”

“I’m his older brother, Shimada Hanzo. He hasn’t been home in two days, and—”

The man’s face transforms in an instant, dark with rage. “What did you do to him this time, huh?”

“What?”

“You musta done somethin’, you yellow-bellied, lily-livered skunk. He always comes here after you two fight, and if he didn’t, that means you really hurt him good. So what did you do?”

Hanzo pales. “Are you saying he hasn’t been here, then?”

“No, he hasn’t.” The man storms out from behind the bar and grabs Hanzo by his collar in a show of impressive strength. Not, um, not that that matters either. “Now you listen. I’ve seen what you do to him, what you say to him, and I’m not happy about it, you get me? I don’t know what you did, but you fix it, and you fix it fast.” 

Hanzo opens his mouth to respond, but the man doesn’t give him a chance. He punches him straight in the face.

“That’s for Genji,” the man hisses. “You better find him. Now get out.”

Hanzo gets out. His guards, who were waiting outside, hand him a tissue for his bleeding nose and offer to beat up the guy inside, but he waves them off. He probably deserved that.

But the worst news is that Genji didn’t go to the bar, which means that he officially has no idea where Genji is and no leads. 

He heads home, thinking deeply all the while. If he alerts his father, he can mobilize all the forces of the Shimada family, but if his father finds out, he’ll definitely take control of Genji when he gets back, and Hanzo doesn’t want that. He can keep searching on his own, but that hasn’t gotten him anywhere thus far. He can—

He doesn’t end up doing any of that, because when he gets home and opens his computer, he’s received an email with a link to a video.

Of Genji.

Of Genji, who is bruised and bloody and barely recognizable.

Of Genji, who is struggling to stay conscious, but still mouthing, “Don’t do it,” as The Virus outline their terms for his return.

Hanzo’s crumpled heart drops straight into his stomach, and he is left feeling nothing but horror and dread and a growing numbness.

Genji.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun DUUUUUUUNNNNNNN
> 
> lol if u thought this story would be nothin but fluff u were, unfortunately, wrong


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is pretty intense so please read this note! warnings for mention of cancer, death; graphic violence, blood, guns

There’s no way Hanzo can keep this from his father any longer. He barges in without asking for an audience first, which usually would be cause for punishment, but he’s pretty sure his father will understand.

“Father. I’m sorry for coming in without permission, but Genji—” He stops in his tracks. “Father?”

His father is being given some kind of sickly red liquid through an intravenous line that goes directly into his chest, near his heart. His eyes widen, and for the first time in Hanzo’s memory, he looks frightened.

“Hanzo? You shouldn’t—”

“Father, what’s going on? That’s…” He strides over to the bag of liquid and reads it. “Doxorubicin…what is that?”

“Hanzo, son, I didn’t want you to—” His father sighs. “It’s chemotherapy.”

“Chemotherapy?” Hanzo repeats, uncomprehending. “But that’s for cancer.”

“Yes. Multiple myeloma. They caught it late, and it isn’t looking very good.”

Hanzo had known that his father hadn’t been feeling well recently, and he noticed when he started shaving his head, but he hadn’t even thought…Despair wells up in him. Genji, now his father. “How long?”

“Hanzo…”

“How long do you have to live?”

“It’s hard to say, but probably around five months.” He sighs. “I was going to tell you.”

“You should have,” Hanzo says coldly. “I deserved to know.”

“You did. I just didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Hanzo shakes his head, retreating into himself, into a dark, frigid place where nothing can touch him. He always thought his father trusted him, at least enough to let him know about things that affected the family. He thought he could trust his father.

He was wrong. He can’t trust anyone.

“Were you saying something about Genji? What’s that boy up to?”

“Nothing.” Hanzo’s voice is dull, void of emotion. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

And he will. Because that’s how he’s always done things, in the end, hasn’t it? By himself.

He walks out of the room, ignoring his father calling out to him, and starts planning how to get Genji back.

\-----------------------

Genji stares at the wall of the room they’ve been keeping him in listlessly. It’s hard to keep track of time in here, but if his hash marks are accurate, he’s been in here five days. They take him out every once in a while to ask him about some deal that went sideways, or something. He laughed the first time they brought it up.

“You really think they tell me anything? Me, the screwup son of the Shimada family? Please. Save your breath.”

They didn’t really like that, but he at least got some satisfaction in the way their faces twisted before they pushed him to the ground and started kicking him in the ribs. Again. Seriously, cliché. 

They’ve been giving him water, but he hasn’t eaten since…well, since lunch with Zenyatta, now that he thinks of it. He huffs in vague amusement. He had thought things were so simple. He had thought he was above it all, that he could have a normal life and go on dates with cute guys and that everything was kisses and kettle corn, that he could just turn away from his family and everything would be fine. Because he’s the invincible Shimada Genji, right? Because nothing can touch you if you don’t really care, right? 

What a joke.

“Something funny?” the guard near his room asks suspiciously.

“Your face,” he responds. Not his best, but he’s starving and dirty and cold, so he figures he can cut himself a break.

“Ha, ha. You’re not gonna be jokin’ anymore once T gets here.”

“T?” Genji searches his memory. “The leader of Virus? For lil ol’ me? I’m blushing.”

“Yeah, well, we gotta decide what to do with you since your family apparently doesn’t care you’re gone.”

Ouch. He keeps up his pleasant smile—hard, with a split lip and bruises all over your face, but he does it out of sheer spite—and says, “I did say I was the screwup son.”

“Yeah, but we thought we could still get something for ya. They didn’t even respond.” The guard shrugs. “Guess the rumors about the cold-blooded Shimadas are true also.”

“Guess so,” Genji mutters, and returns to staring at the wall. T, huh? There are plenty of rumors about that guy as well. He’s apparently a pretty textbook sadist, quick to anger and fast-acting. That’s good. It’s not like Genji wanted to survive this, or anything. (Another joke. It’s good to know that if nothing else, Genji’s sarcasm doesn’t leave him during his time of need.)

His mind drifts back to that lunch with Zenyatta. He dozes off to the memory of Zenyatta’s smile.

“Wake up!”

He wakes up with a start. “Huh? Five more minutes.”

The guard snorts despite himself. “Yeah, right, princess. T is here. He wants to talk to you.”

“Awesome.” Genji gets up with a groan, wincing in pain when his weight hits his injured ankle. He limps along behind the guard, who drops him off in the interrogation room and handcuffs him to a chair.

Before long, a smiling blonde man enters the room. “Well, hey! Genji, right? Can I call you Genji?”

Genji keeps silent, assessing the man through his blurred vision.

“I’m T. Well, Tate, but T sounds so much more intimidating, don’t you think?”

Genji stares at him.

“Not a talker, huh? That makes me sad. I heard you were a talker.” T pouts, then brightens. “Ooh!”

In a flash, he pulls out a gun and shoots Genji in the thigh.

Genji tries to bite back his wail, but it hurts. 

“Now you’re talking.” T twirls his handgun with a pleased smile. “They always do, in the end.”

“What do you want from me?” Genji yells. “I’ve told you all, I don’t know anything.”

T sighs, looking bored. “Yeah, I know. But your family screwed us over on this big weapons deal, yeah? And, you know, I’m really a pretty simple guy. I figure, they screw us over, we screw ‘em back. But your family doesn’t appear to have been inconvenienced in the least by your disappearance, and that makes me mad. So now I’m thinking, right?” T taps his chin with his gun. “I’m thinking I can at least have some fun with this.” With that, he points his gun almost lazily and shoots Genji in the other thigh.

Genji bites his lip hard to hold back the scream, drawing blood from his lower lip. His eyes start to water.

“See? Fun,” T says happily. 

“Your idea of fun and mine are pretty different,” Genji bites out between gasps for air.

“I’m pretty sure I’m right, though,” T offers, still with that incessant smile.

“Sir!” interrupts a guard, bursting into the room. “There’s somebody on the property. I’m pretty sure it’s the Shimadas.”

“Oh?” T looks positively delighted. “So they do care! This is absolutely heartwarming, don’t you think, Genji? Like my favorite soap operas.”

Genji is a bit busy trying not to faint, so he doesn’t respond.

“Ugh. You are so boring, Genji boy, you ever been told that? You are boring and I am bored.” T aims his gun at Genji’s head and says, “I think you will actually be less boring dead, which is an impressive feat.”

There’s a clunking sound and a thump as the guard falls to the ground. Hanzo’s voice is completely emotionless as he says, “Get away from my little brother.”

T tilts his head. “Why?”

“Because otherwise I will kill you.”

“You’re just as boring as your baby brother,” T says disappointedly. 

Genji hears two gunshots then, and he feels one of them hit his shin, but his vision is going dark and his head is going fuzzy, so he really isn’t too sure where the other one goes.

Oh well. Now seems like such a nice time to sleep, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this chapter is kinda silly let's be real
> 
> true facts about my naming process for t: 'hm...tater tots. oh. tate! but i can't take him seriously with a name that sounds so much like 'tater tot'...let's just do t'


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for mention of gunshot wounds, surgical procedures, amputation, familial arguing, hospitals

“—dehydrated, and it doesn’t look like they fed him, either—”

“— imagine, but I’m a little bit more worried about the three _holes_ in his _legs_ —”

“—getting to that. Hanzo, you should be sitting down, you’re—”

“—not going to sit down, Angela, it’s _Genji_ —”

“—not going to help anyone if you faint, Hanzo! Sit—”

“—not going to faint, so just tell me already—”

A silence, then: “—pretty severe damage to both of his legs. I’ll see what I can do, but I might have to—”

Genji doesn’t hear any more after that. He passes out again.

When he next wakes, he’s in an off-white room on an uncomfortable bed. Probably a hospital, his brain supplies through the haze. Must’ve made it out.

He stares at the ceiling for a few minutes, less because he particularly likes staring at ceilings and more because he gets distracted by a brownish stain above his head, until a calm voice calls his name. “Genji?”

He slowly looks over at the doorway. A pretty blonde woman in scrubs is smiling at him.

“Hello,” he slurs. “Know you.”

“We’ve met a couple of times, yes. I’m Dr. Ziegler. It’s approximately 4 AM on Monday the 17th. You’re in a private hospital. Do you remember anything about what brought you here?”

Genji pauses. It’s hard to think, and to talk. “Virus.”

“Yes. You were kidnapped by The Virus and held there for a period of five days. Your brother mounted a rescue mission and you were successfully recovered and airlifted here.”

“Hanzo?” Hanzo came for him? He vaguely remembers them saying nobody would. Huh.

She misinterprets his question and responds, “He’s at a hotel nearby resting, but I notified him that you woke up, so I expect he’ll be here soon.” 

Genji attempts to nod, but it hurts. He groans.

“I’d recommend you try to limit your movement as much as possible,” Dr. Ziegler says softly. “Especially...your legs.”

He frowns, uncomprehending. “Legs?”

She hesitates. “That’s a discussion I’d like to table until after the anesthesia has worn off and you can fully participate.”

“It’s bad?”

“That depends on your perspective,” she says carefully. “Anyway, try to stay awake, okay?”

She’s gone as quietly as she came. He tries to stay awake, but he dozes off anyway. He’s just so tired.

His light sleep is interrupted by hushed arguing.

“You didn’t tell him?!”

“He can’t process it while he’s high as a kite, Hanzo! He can barely talk right now, how is he supposed to—”

“Hanzo?” Genji calls, and the arguing stops.

“Hey,” Hanzo says, stepping closer. “I’m, uh…glad you’re awake.”

Genji’s eyes are heavy, and he’d like nothing better than to go back to sleep, but he manages a “Thanks.”

“What for?”

“You came,” Genji says simply.

For a moment, he could swear he sees Hanzo’s eyes water, but it’s probably just the lights in here or something. “Of course I did.”

“Coulda been faster,” Genji jokes, but for some reason, Hanzo’s face darkens sorrowfully and he draws back.

“…Yeah.”

After that, he stops talking and turns on some TV channel—looks like a cooking competition—and watches that with his lips pressed tightly together, very pointedly not looking at Genji.

It takes a while, but the anesthesia starts to wear off and Genji starts to feel more in control of himself again. The pain comes back too, but it’s still somewhat muted.

“That looks good,” he says wistfully, looking at the katsudon being prepared on-screen. “I want some.”

Dr. Ziegler appears at the door again. “Feeling better, Genji?”

“Yeah. Got any food up in here?” he quips.

“We’ve got you on nutrients—that’s the cold thing at the back of your throat— but we’ll get you something proper to eat when we think your body can take it.”

He makes a face. “Fine. I need to go to the bathroom. I think I might need some help walking there, but…”

Dr. Ziegler and Hanzo look at each other, then Dr. Ziegler says, “I think it might be time for that discussion we tabled earlier.”

“About my legs?”

“Yes. I’m not certain how much you remember, but you were shot three times, once in the right shin and once in the lower area of both thighs. The damage caused by the gunshots was quite severe, and in the end I decided that the only option was to amputate.”

Horror begins to dawn in Genji. “…Amputate?”

“Yes. We preserved as much of your leg as possible, but both of them are now cut off at the mid-thigh.”

“Show me,” he demands. “I can still feel them, so you must be lying. Show me.”

“Phantom limb sensations are common—”

“Show me!”

Hanzo closes his eyes as if he’s in pain, then awkwardly pulls the sheets off of Genji’s legs. 

“No.” It hurts, but Genji can’t stop shaking his head. “No. You’re…I don’t know how you did this, but you’re lying, this is…this is a bad dream, right?”

“No, Genji,” Dr. Ziegler says, and whereas her calm demeanor has been comforting before, now it just pisses Genji off.

“You—how could you! I didn’t consent to this, I didn’t—”

“Genji, I talked to her about this. There really wasn’t any other way. The wounds were starting to get infected, and—” Hanzo’s voice is emotionless, logical.

“And you,” Genji hisses, feeling nothing but rage. “You just sat here next to me watching a cooking show the entire time when—you knew! And—you—you—” The tears are welling up in his eyes again, but Genji can’t manage to even be embarrassed at how quick he’s been to cry recently. “I thought you weren’t coming. They all said you didn’t care, and—you—five days, Hanzo?!”

Hanzo’s grip tightens, white-knuckled, on the arms of the chair he’s sitting in. “I…we couldn’t find you, Genji, I didn’t even know until—”

“Stop making excuses,” Genji screams, and the tears run hot down his face. “I-it’s your fault! It’s your fault my legs are gone!”

“Do you think I don’t know that?!” Hanzo suddenly bellows, standing up and throwing the chair across the room. “Do you think I haven’t been awake thinking about how you wouldn’t even have been out there if it weren’t for our fight? How if I had realized you were gone faster, we might have gotten there in time? If we hadn’t waited until night, if—” He shakes his head as if clearing it. “I know, Genji.”

Part of Genji knows this is the part where he should say—no, it wasn’t you, I was the one who left without my guards, I was the one who leaves so often that you can’t tell when I’m gone, it was me, me—

But most of Genji is just mad, and he takes a vicious pleasure in snarling, “Get out.”

It feels less good when Hanzo doesn’t even fight, though, just stares at him, nods once, and leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha yikes
> 
> it'll get better eventually dw
> 
> (did u like my obvious and tone-inappropriate yoi reference winku)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for hospitals, gun mention

Genji spends the next week sullen in the hospital room. Hanzo doesn’t try to come back, and he doesn’t know whether that makes him feel better or worse. 

Someone does drop off a new phone while he’s sleeping, though—old one must have been taken by The Virus—and so he isn’t completely alone. None of his ‘friends’ bother texting. That’s pretty typical. He has five missed calls and about 60 unread texts from Jesse.

He’s scrolling through them, rolling his eyes fondly—they start at ‘hey, punk, haven’t seen you in a while’ and end with ‘I WILL PERSONALLY EVISCERATE YOU IF YOU ARE NOT ALIVE RIGHT NOW’—when he gets an unexpected call.

It’s Zenyatta. He scrabbles to pick up the phone immediately.

“Zenyatta? Hey!” 

“Genji!” Zenyatta sounds incredibly worried. “How are you, are you safe? Are you hurt? Your brother said he found you, but he hung up when I asked how you were doing—”

Genji scowls at the thought of his brother. “No, I’m…well…I’m safe, yeah. I’m in a hospital recovering right now.”

“What even happened?”

“I…didn’t really tell you a lot about my family, Zenyatta. I…there’s no good way of saying this, really, so I’ll just come out with it, um…The Shimada family is one of the biggest organized crime syndicates in the area.”

There’s a silence. Finally Zenyatta says rather calmly, “Okay, but that doesn’t tell me what happened.”

Genji frowns. “I just told you—”

“Genji, you came to the first yoga session surrounded by bodyguards. I assumed you were either from prosperous circumstances or dangerous ones, but I figured you would tell me when you were ready to do so.”

Genji sighs in relief, then says wonderingly, “How are you so perfect?”

Zenyatta laughs, a lilting sound. “I’m not, but that’s sweet. Anyway, you’re not answering my question.”

“I got kidnapped by a rival gang. They held me for five days. Mostly just kicked me around, but at the end of it their leader came and shot me three times in the legs.”

Zenyatta gasps. “Genji…are you really okay?”

“I…” Genji closes his eyes as if it would make saying the next part easier. “They had to amputate them. My legs, I mean.”

Zenyatta doesn’t say anything for a while, and Genji fears the worst. Eventually, though, he says, “I’m coming.”

“What? I’m in a private hospital in they-won’t-even-tell-me-where, you can’t—”

“No. I’m coming. I’ll explain to you later.” Then he hangs up.

Genji stares at the phone bemusedly, then opens up the messages he hasn’t gotten to yet, all from Zenyatta.

_ZEN!!! :D : Genji? I didn’t see you at class today. Are you well?_

_ZEN!!! :D : It occurs to me that, well…I might have done something wrong. On our date, I mean. I apologize if so. I’d still like to see you again, though…as friends, even, if you’d prefer._

_ZEN!!! :D : Genji?_

_ZEN!!! :D : I’m getting worried. I’m going to call your brother._

_ZEN!!! :D : Genji…he said he wasn’t sure if you were okay. Please tell me you are._

_ZEN!!! :D : Please. Please be okay, Genji._

The next day, he wakes up to a light touch on the shoulder. Normally he’s a pretty heavy sleeper, but he’s been pretty jumpy ever since the Experience.

“Genji?”

He groans and turns over. “Go ‘way, Hanzo.”

The same delicate, lilting laugh from yesterday floats through the air. “I’m not Hanzo.”

At that, he wakes up. “Zenyatta?”

“Hello.” Zenyatta’s smile is pleasant, tinged with a hint of fondness. 

“What…how are you here? I said I didn’t even—”

“A couple of days ago, I received a request from an old colleague of mine to come out here for an emergency patient who had just had both legs amputated. She wanted me to be on retainer for when he was ready to be fitted with prosthetics and relearn how to walk. I said no at the time, because I still have the class and the drive out here is dismal, but when we spoke yesterday I had a hunch.”

“That it was me?”

“That it was you.” Zenyatta grins. “You look awful.”

Genji lets out a surprised bark of a laugh. “You don’t say that to hospital patients!”

“You do when they look awful,” Zenyatta responds reasonably. “Anyway, it got you to laugh, didn’t it?”

Genji’s smile fades. “Yeah. Guess so.”

“You never really answered my question, yesterday,” Zenyatta says, reaching out a hand to stroke Genji’s clenched fist gently. “How are you?”

“Honestly?”

“Preferably.”

“…I’m not okay at all. I’m confused, and sad, and angry at everyone, and angry at myself most of all. I don’t know how I’m going to get through life without my legs. I feel like there’s so much I took for granted, and there’s so much I don’t understand, and I chased away Hanzo and now I’m worried I’m going to chase away you too, and—”

“Genji, breathe.” Zenyatta’s hand continues its rhythmic stroking over Genji’s hand, which is clenching and unclenching. “You’re not going to chase me away. Just breathe.”

He takes a shuddering breath. “Yeah.”

“Do you know why I do yoga?”

Genji frowns at the sudden change of subject. “Uh, no?”

“It’s partly because it helps me to organize my thoughts when everything seems like it’s falling apart,” Zenyatta says, sounding like he’s thinking aloud. “But.”

He pulls up the hem of his loose pants, revealing the edge of a prosthesis. One leg, then the other.

“I was born without them,” Zenyatta says evenly in response to Genji’s questioning gaze. “Yoga is helpful in strengthening and recovering muscles. Mondatta suggested we go to a class when I was quite young and having troubles with balance—in all aspects of my life, really.”

“Is that why you became a physical therapist too?”

“Partly. I wanted to help other people as I had been helped. I wanted to show people that I could do it, even without legs. I wanted everyone to know that there’s more to life than being of able body and mind.” He shrugs, the movement looking elegant on him, and begins to pull down his pant legs. “And if you are open to it, I would like to help you see all of that as well.”

Genji narrows his eyes. “I don’t need pity.”

“Perhaps not. But I am not interested in offering you pity. I like you, Genji. Perhaps we have not known each other for long, but I want you to be happy. I am offering you a chance at happiness. Will you take it?”

Genji might once have said yes immediately. Now, he takes the time to search Zenyatta’s face, weigh his options.

Finally, he asks, “Can we still kiss, though?”

Zenyatta’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “I think I can make an exception to my normal rule.”

Genji’s lips quirk. “Then…yes. I’ll give it a shot.”

Zenyatta stops stroking Genji’s hand in favor of lacing their fingers together. “Thank you.” Then, maintaining eye contact, he raises their hands to drop a kiss on Genji’s. “See? Exceptions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't like this chapter but i'm posting it anyway lol #qualitywriter
> 
> is it unrealistic that zenyatta and genji are already so close? yyyyyyyyep do i care? NOT ONE BIT I JUST WANT EM TO KISS OK


	10. Chapter 10

It takes an additional month before his legs are healed enough for him to be fitted for prosthetics. It’s probably the most boring month of his life. He never thought he could get bored of doing nothing but watching television and browsing the Internet, but it doesn’t take long before he’s vibrating in want of something to do.

He lives for the days that Zenyatta comes, even if he isn’t a big fan of physical therapy itself. They do stretches together, and Zenyatta teaches him how to roll out of bed and into a wheelchair, which Genji complains profusely about at first. Soon enough, though, he’s zooming about the hospital and terrorizing all of the nurses. 

It’s harder than he thought it would be, not that he ever thought it would be particularly easy. Using the wheelchair is taxing on his upper body, particularly his arms, and he gets tired a lot. It doesn’t help that his stay at The Virus had also resulted in some fractured ribs, which makes breathing a less than pleasurable experience.

The pain, though, is absolutely the worst in what remains of his legs. He still gets phantom limb sensations, and sometimes the itching is enough to drive him to screaming. Zenyatta tries to help with electrical stimulation and massages, but it’s still pretty bad.

“I always pictured getting a massage from someone I like to be a little bit less terrible,” he bites out one day.

Zenyatta smiles, pleased. “Someone you like?”

Genji looks away, flushing lightly. “I’m pretty sure you knew that already.”

“It’s nice to hear anyway. Now, I’m going to touch you some more to desensitize you. It’ll help a lot later, when you’re wearing the prosthesis.”

“When will that happen?”

“Depends on the way you heal, but another three weeks, at minimum.”

Genji groans. “I just want to be able to walk again.”

“It’s not that simple. Even when you get the prosthetics, adjusting to walking with them is a long and painful process. It can last up to a year.”

“A year?!”

“Or less, but I want you to be prepared, Genji.”

Genji scowls. That doesn’t end up being a good day, and he yells at Zenyatta, who bears it patiently.

After the month is up, he’s fitted for temporary prosthetics. Zenyatta is right—learning to walk with them is hell. He starts out on parallel bars, then graduates to a walker.

All the while, he and Zenyatta talk and learn more about each other. Genji hears about Zenyatta’s childhood with Mondatta, and how he struggled to find a place in the world, how he was incredibly angry at the universe for making him different. Zenyatta tells him about the bullies and all of the people who didn’t understand, and how he spent most of his time either alone or with Mondatta, who tried to protect him, but was too young and too busy focusing on keeping them both afloat after their parents died.

Genji, in return, talks about growing up privileged and always having friends, and how hollow it’s always made him feel. He talks about Hanzo and his anger towards him, and hesitantly he opens up about how angry he’s always really been at himself, for not being good enough and not being able to be the person he knows Hanzo wishes he would be. He cries in Zenyatta’s arms as he confesses to always only having wanted to be loved by someone for who he is—not for his money, not for his name, just for him. Zenyatta kisses away his tears and tells him quietly that he’s always been enough. 

He wakes up the next morning feeling almost reborn.

Physical therapy continues. Zenyatta tries to make it fun with wheelchair races down the halls and kisses as reward. 

It’s only when he’s moved on to a cane that he finally calls Hanzo to come and pick him up and take him back home.

The car ride home is silent and uncomfortable, neither of the brothers wanting to be the first one to say something. It isn’t until they get out at the door that Genji finally says, “Thanks.”

Hanzo pauses, somewhat shocked. “For what?”

“Getting me, I guess.”

Hanzo deflates. “Oh. You’re welcome.”

“I mean…not only just now, Hanzo. When…when I was gone. You got me.” Genji smiles hesitantly. “I’d be dead now if it weren’t for that. So thank you.”

Hanzo doesn’t respond for a while. Then he says softly, “I don’t really feel comfortable with you thanking me for that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was too late, Genji!” Hanzo bursts out. “You lost your legs, and you’re right, it was my fault!”

Genji rolls his eyes. “Hanzo, I said that when I was hurting. It’s as much my fault as it is yours—more, even—but mostly it’s The Virus’s fault, and we both know that. You did the best you could with what you were given.”

“But I could have been better,” Hanzo insists stubbornly. “I could have been faster, I could have been—”

“But you weren’t,” Genji says simply. “We can’t change what happened. We can only move forward.” He squirms under Hanzo’s intense gaze, and mumbles, “That’s what Zenyatta says, anyway.”

“You’ve changed,” Hanzo observes.

“I’d like to think so.”

“Because of this Zenyatta?”

“Partially,” Genji says with a shrug. “He has a way of phrasing things in a way that I understand.”

“I suppose I owe him my thanks, then.”

“For multiple reasons, yes. Anyway, my legs are starting to get tired.”

Hanzo immediately flusters. “Do you need your wheelchair?”

“Nah, I just want to get inside.” Genji pauses. “But Hanzo?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t blame you anymore, but I do want to make one thing clear. If I had known the dangers that our family faced from the start, then I never would have gone out without my guards. Again, it’s nothing we can change, but from now on…can you talk to me?”

Hanzo frowns. “I can’t—”

“I’m not asking you to tell me everything, Hanzo. But if something impacts me, like another deal gone wrong or whatever, I’d like to know about it. No more secrets, okay?”

Hanzo looks at Genji, then nods. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating for a bit there! i've been busy working on my yoi fics haha;;; i'm a bit obsessed
> 
> all of my knowledge of the pt process is from google, so if i've gotten anything wrong or said anything insensitive please let me know so i can fix things and my deepest apologies!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! tumblr is anuninterestingperson if u wanna talk about anything!


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